


to have a vision

by defireryttere



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: All is well in the end, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other, i swear the major character death isn't TOO major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24447880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defireryttere/pseuds/defireryttere
Summary: “Mikey,” it says, almost urgently, and Kid grimaces at the sight, can feel his hands begin to shake. The sensation of phantom tears comes back to him as it tightens it's grip around his hand and opens it's mouth again, “Mikey.”
Relationships: Jet Star & Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Ray Toro & Mikey Way
Kudos: 10





	to have a vision

**Author's Note:**

> i dont own mcr or it's affiliates! this is just for fun. pls be careful reading

The first thing Kid notices when he wakes up, when the bleary streak of light widens into a blur of colour, is that his head is throbbing with the pain of being split open at the temple. Thin trails of smoke billow out from his right, from what he presumes is the back tire, and it stings his eyes when it drifts in through the mangled, shattered window. 

A wreck. A pretty serious one, by the looks of it.

He manages to turn his aching head a fraction, willing himself to check the passenger's seat and make sure that—

Jet isn't moving. 

Jet's helmet is in pieces, bad enough that Kid can see a portion of his face, and he's still not fucking moving. His eyes are only half closed, so Kid can make out that they're milky and sightless, a dull grey rather than the cheerful brown eyes they once were.  
How long had Kid been out?   
The blood caked along Jet's busted nose bridge, coating his lips and chin and smeared halfway across his too-pale cheek, it's all dry, flaky. Dark and very telling.

He's been dead for while. 

He's dead, and it's Kid's fault, it has to be, he must've lost control of the wheel—although he lacks the memory of having been driving beforehand. He must've hit his head harder than he'd thought.

“Ray?”

...

Definitely fucked his head up. 

Predictably, the hollow, lifeless husk of his best friend feigns to respond. He only rests, as the dead and dying do, staring aimlessly at the glass-littered dashboard.   
He still finds himself reaching out to find one of Ray's hands, curling gloved fingers together and squeezing as though attempting to comfort him.

“Ray...”

He feels the tears that he'd been fighting since he'd woken up–they threaten to tip over, gathering and growing heavy at his lower lid. For whatever reason, he can't feel them fall. 

“Mikey?”

His head snaps up fast enough to make him feel even more dizzy, wide eyes landing on the same lifeless body as before—

Only now, it was staring right at him. 

“Mikey,” it says, almost urgently, and Kid grimaces at the sight, can feel his hands begin to shake. The sensation of phantom tears comes back to him as it tightens it's grip around his hand and opens it's mouth again, “Mikey.”

He squeezes his eyes shut to keep the sight out, all he can think of to do. 

“Mikey!” 

When he opens them again for the second time, it's pitch black, and he can feel the heat of someone right next to him.   
A warm hand is still curled around his own, which is still shaking, and the feeling is a little bit bizarre. His face feels wet, and hot, and he feels like shit. 

“Are you— are you okay? You were, uh, crying.”

The voice is the same from his dream, only now it's soft, and drowsy, and alive. Right next to his ear, grounding him—he squeezes the fuck out of Jet's hand in an effort to distract himself from brewing tears that he deems unnecessary. 

“I'm fine. Weird dream, s'all.”

“That.. Doesn't sound like the full truth? But, I won't push you if you don't wanna tell me.”

“Just weird, alright? Like, some kind of premonition shit. A warning.”

“What kind of warning?”

“I don't know, it, it was– there was a crash,” he explains helplessly, not wanting to relive the experience but seeing no point in keeping it from Jet–feels distrustful, and that's saying a lot for someone with Mikey's moral compass–out here, keeping secrets is more dangerous than telling them in the long run. 

“And?”

“You were dead, and it was my fault. You were so fuckin' clearly dead in the passenger's seat, but—.. You were still talking to me, saying my name like you knew what I did,” he cuts it off there as he feels his admission becoming more of a ramble, and his next breath comes out shaky. He cuts it off too. 

“I felt helpless, Ray.”

For a tense moment, Ray says nothing.  
Mikey knows he's calculating how to respond—he understands that it's a precarious situation, teetering on the edge of a fallout—but the silence makes him uncomfortable regardless. 

After a minute, he feels the grip on his hand tighten, feels Ray give it a comforting, barely there little shake. Oddly enough, it actually helps a little. Mikey's tense form goes that little bit more slack.

“Well, I mean, I'm here now. I'm alive and this is real, and tomorrow is still on the horizon for both of us— that's enough, right?”

Mikey almost wishes he could see Ray, but only if Ray somehow couldn't watch him back. He knows his face is earnest, reassuring.   
Alive.   
The memory soothes him in the reality's absence.

“Yeah. That's enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> based off of a fucked up dream i have sometimes


End file.
